Post Game Extravaganza
by Cymoril Avalon
Summary: Parody. Despite being blasted in the face with a rocket, Wesker refuses to stay dead. Is anyone surprised?


Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. This is a parody; absolutely nothing in here is serious. I apologize for the uninspired title. Any suggestions are welcome.

* * *

Wesker emerges from rubble, shirtless and looking ridiculously pissed off.

"Chris," he hisses, flexing his muscles. How did that upstart brat keep defeating him? He should have butchered him back in the Raccoon PD days. Thoughts of revenge swirl through his head as he picks his way out of the wreckage, glancing idly at the remains of a rocket.

He truly is invincible. That will come in handy.

Cue three years later - Claire is lounging in Chris' living room, waiting for the gang to return from a late night movie showing. Claire would have gone along but she managed to catch a cold.

The curtains rustle.

"Redfield."

Claire glances up, her eyes growing wide. Albert Wesker! But he's dead!

"You're dead!" she declares.

"That's nice." He isn't wearing sunglasses, his eyes glinting red. "I'm here to finish off Chris."

"He's not home."

"I'll wait then."

Claire fidgets uncomfortably. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"You tried to kill me and my brother."

"I never tried to kill you."

"Yes you did."

"You're alive, aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"I never tried to kill you."

"Chris is alive."

Wesker remains silent.

The two continue to stare at one another for an hour and a half until a drunken Chris stumbles in, along with an equally plastered Jill.

"Whoa," Chris mumbles.

"Time to die, Chris." Wesker doesn't bother waiting for introductions; he simply reaches out and tears Chris' heart out from his chest. Ever minding his manners, he offers the still beating organ to Claire, who leaves the room in disgust.

Jill is still in shock. "You died."

"Is there an echo in here?"

"What?"

"Nothing." A pause. "I see you're still blonde."

"I still have superpowers, too. Thanks for that."

"I just killed your boyfriend," he points out helpfully.

"Yeah but the fans don't like him, ever since he turned into GI Joe."

"Does that mean we'll get our own game?"

Jill shrugs. "Maybe. I'm a little tired of fighting for my life."

"Then I suppose I won't kill you."

Claire returns, a little green around the gills. "He's bleeding everywhere."

"That's what happens when you kill somebody."

"He's still twitching! You're a monster!"

"But Claire," Jill interjects smoothly, "we're going to have our own game."

"We are?"

Wesker barely nods, no stranger to lying; besides, maybe Capcom will pull their heads out of their collective asses and give the fans what they want.

The sound of shattering glass precedes Leon, who decides it's a grand idea to cannonball through Chris' window. "I am too late!" he laments, staring at Chris' corpse.

"Don't tell me Steve is going to show up, too."

"He's dead. I killed him. Again."

"Are you sure he's going to stay dead?"

"No. I can resurrect him whenever it suits me." Wesker looks smug. "I can do anything with the power of retconning. I've come back from the dead several times already. Nothing can defeat me!"

"I will avenge my friend," Leon declares, putting a hand over his heart. He would cry out Chris' name but he grew tired of that plot device back in Not Spain.

"Go ahead. We'll wait."

Leon shifts his weight, realizing exactly how useless he is despite turning into a commando and busting through an entire country, wasting innocent villagers left and right only to butcher a midget and a cave troll to rescue the ugliest girl on the planet. He should never have joined the police force.

"Everyone wants us to get married," Claire informs Leon.

His brow furrows. "Really? Why?"

"Because we spoke. And we starred in an animated film together."

"We barely interacted," he protests. "Is that even canon?"

"Damned if I know."

Wesker looks at Jill. "I guess that means we need to hook up too."

"For the fans?"

"Of course."

Wesker sweeps Jill off her feet just as Leon pulls Claire into a passionate, sloppy kiss. Tyrant Birkin shuffles in through the broken window, his enlarged arm flailing; he is obviously happy for his friend. Then he turns back into a human, though conveniently, Annette remains dead, since no one actually likes her.

"I have your daughter," Wesker tells Birkin.

"I thought the government had her," Leon protests.

"I stole her and raised her as my own."

"Dear god," both girls murmur.

Birkin wipes away a tear. "You are truly my best friend. Now roll up your sleeve; I have work to do."

The end.


End file.
